


The Rest of Our Lives

by Catchclaw



Series: Mental Mimosa [318]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: A Happy Ending And What Comes After, Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Love, M/M, Multi, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Relief, smut with feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:00:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21886336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/pseuds/Catchclaw
Summary: The war's over. They won. Now what?
Relationships: Finn/Rey (Star Wars), Poe Dameron/Finn, Poe Dameron/Finn/Rey, Poe Dameron/Rey
Series: Mental Mimosa [318]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1012767
Comments: 19
Kudos: 193





	The Rest of Our Lives

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for The Rise of Skywalker.

“You’re not dead.”

“Yes, Finn, I’m aware.”

“And we’re not dead, either. Wow.”

“You hit your head somewhere back there, buddy?”

His arms tighten around them and no, he doesn’t care if their cheeks are wearing his tears. “Maybe. Probably not. If I had a concussion right now, I think I’d know.”

Rey laughs in his ear, breathless because, oh, she’s still shaking. Why hadn’t he noticed that? Between them, can they hold her any tighter? “Yeah, you would. Probably.”

“Can I be honest?” Poe says, his voice muffled against Finn’s neck. “We need to be somewhere with a locked door, right now.”

“Yes,” Finn says. “That.”

*****

They end up in somebody’s quarters, whoever’s. The important thing is: Poe jimmies the lock and Finn would worry about it, really he would, because privacy's important but then Rey’s in his arms and Poe’s biting at the back of his neck and ok maybe the high horse can wait until some day when he didn’t almost die like five times and Poe was almost shot down, and Rey--well, whatever’s happened to her, it was very not good. 

He knows because of the way that she’s kissing him, deep and dirty and desperate; the way she’s tugging at his clothes and the way she wants him tearing at hers and the soft, hurt sound that she makes when skin finally meets skin.

“Take him to bed,” Poe says, the words firm over their kisses, his hands hot on Finn’s hips. “Take him first. I need to see you together. Please.”

Rey pulls back the sheets and Finn pulls off his boots and in no time, forever, she’s warm and solid beneath him, grief in her eyes and ash in her hair, and he wants to ask, he wants to know, he does, but he knows her well enough to understand that she doesn’t want to hear questions; she only wants answers, the kind he can give her with his body and his mouth and his hands.

“Finn,” she says, very quietly, as she spreads her thighs for him, before him. “Now, Finn.”

She’s feather soft there. Wet. She tastes like being alive feels, and he can’t get enough of either. 

Poe’s voice beside them, the purr of a zip. “Oh, fuck.”

When he looks up, Poe is kneeling at Rey’s head, one broad hand stroking her breasts. Their foreheads are pressed together and he’s grinning. She has her hand in his hair.

“I’m gonna kiss you,” Poe tells her. “And just a warning, the way I’m feeling right now? I might not be able to stop.”

And he doesn’t, even when her thighs tighten and she starts to tremble, her cunt closing around Finn’s fingers fierce and perfect and hot, and when she comes, Poe lifts his head and lets her cries draw rings around them all.

Poe reaches for him then, pulls Finn to his knees and licks at Rey’s slick on his mouth.

“She needs you,” he murmurs. “She needs you inside her, baby.”

Finn’s head is a cloud. His cock is definitely not. “She needs you, too.”

“And he’ll have me,” Rey says, the words slurred and beautifully dreamy. The spark’s gone soft in her eyes. “But only after you fuck me first.”

They do this to him sometimes, team up and boss him around. They tell him what he wants and they give it to him and it’s so, so impossibly good, even when somebody’s pissed off or somebody’s hurting or somebody just really needs to get fucked and he loves it, loves having these two incredibly strong people touch him and love him and tell him that he deserves it, that he’s more than good enough.

Usually, he feels like he needs this more than they do, but today, maybe for the first time, he gets it: they need him, too. Just as much.

Poe is curled behind him when he pushes in, his chin on Finn’s shoulder, his skin fire against the sweat on Finn’s back. Rey is arching beneath him, reaching, and when he can’t go any further, her hands touch his face and she smiles, this gorgeous, perfect thing. She is. 

He breathes against her mouth, his hips reaching for rhythm. “You are. You are.”

When he comes, her hand is moving between them and she’s pressing her breasts to his chest as Poe pants in his ear, rutting against the curve of his ass, and it’s too much, ok, because all that evil shit is gone, put down by their joined hands, and they’re still here, together, being and loving alive and he’s never felt more himself than he does in that moment when the air shatters and he fills her with heat and she ripples around him sighing as he cries.

“Tears, buddy?” Poe says. “Hey, it’s ok. We’re all right.”

“I know,” Finn says, but he doesn’t stop crying. It’s ok.

Rey strokes his face. Did she come? She hasn’t come. “Stop worrying about me,” she says. “Come here. Come here, love.”

He slips out of her and they fall in a pile. He turns his face against the scratch of Poe’s neck.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Poe kisses the top of his head. “Pffft. For what?”

“For, you know. We were--and you were going to--”

“Well,” Rey says, “change of plans.” Her arm loops around his waist. “Right now we’re taking care of you.”

They lay like that for awhile, listening to the party raging outside. Somebody’s shooting fireworks; a droid’s cursing. Night’s falling but the base has never sounded more awake or more goddamn happy.

So why the kriff is he crying?

“I don’t like thinking you guys are dead,” he says. “Honestly, I could do without thinking that for, like, the rest of my life.”

Poe clears his throat. “Gotta say, I’m not a big fan of it either.”

“It’s not quite the same for me,” Rey says after a moment. “I knew you all weren’t dead, but I could feel it so strongly, the way you were suffering. I don’t care to ever revisit that.”

“So we’re agreed,” Finn says. “No more almost dying, for any of us.”

It’s a ridiculous statement. He knows it. Still, it feels damn good to say.

Even better when Rey sits up and kisses him, and then Poe, and then catches their faces in her hands. “No more almost dying,” she says firmly. It feels like a promise. “For any of us. Not today.”

He’s holding her when she comes at last, the sounds she makes like stardust. She’s speared in Poe’s lap and her head’s on Finn’s chest and they’re both squeezing her breasts as she rubs at her clit when she goes stiff and roars and comes _hard_ , wave upon wave of joy that she rides out while they kiss over her shoulder, moving with her, holding her until the sea settles and she’s with them again, their Rey.

“Suck him,” she murmurs against Finn’s cheek, her palms pressed to Poe’s chest. “He needs to be inside you, Finn. He needs it. He wants to be there when he comes.”

He tastes like her. He’s hard and heavy and hot and he tastes like Rey, like the pleasure they brought her, and stars, is there anything in the universe more fucking beautiful than that?

“I love you,” Poe says as he comes, his nails biting into Finn’s shoulder, his voice tattered, breaking. “I love you both so goddamn much.”

“There is nothing,” Rey groans later, rocking fervent against Finn’s thigh, “nothing in the universe that I love more than you two.”

“See,” Finn whispers when they fall asleep, curled warm and sure at his sides, “one reason I’m glad we’re not dead is because it’s gonna take me at least the next fifty years to tell you how much I love you. Maybe a hundred, huh? I mean, there are two of you, so that's like double the words. Let’s not push it.” He yawns and lets his eyes close. “There’s no need to rush, right? We got time.”

And they do, don’t they? At last.


End file.
